


Fragrance

by Eterna1



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 'underage' drinking, English version!, F/M, S12 E16, SPN - Freeform, maybe one shot?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:00:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26052292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eterna1/pseuds/Eterna1
Summary: S12 E16 – Claire gets bitten from a werewolf and while Sam and Dean tries to get the blood from the werewolf for a potential cure the out of favor fallen Mick Davies should watch the young woman.And sometimes the behavior of a monster is strange.
Relationships: Mick Davies/Claire Novak
Kudos: 16





	Fragrance

Alarmed Mick Davis lifted his Head to the sound of Claire’s Voice.  
…“Aaah! It burns!” Claire shouted and was already fiddling with her fingers on her shoulder patch until the bloody bite came to sight.  
Bloody, crusty and…burning. And of cause from a fucking werewolf!

  
Time has come! It was about to happen, she _felt_ it…she…..desperate Claire saw in the mirror how the dry crust began to heal. Got covered by fresh new skin. So…now she can witness the ‘Wolverine-healing factor’. Oh great…..yeah… (*1)  
She, she must do something! Act, move! And fast before…it was to late, before she couldn’t think any more on her own.  
Quickly she turns around, eyes shooting to the gun on the table as she moves to grab it but….unfortunately she was not alone.

  
…for not even a single second Mick’s eyes moved away from Claire, no…he could feel very good the result of the last encounter with a freshly turned werewolf.  
Hayden attacked him, but Claire…looks like she has other things on her mind.  
Luckily he acts on reflex before she got the damn gun. Obviously she doesn’t want to wait anymore.  
And Claire really don’t want to wait anymore, she _couldn’t_ wait anymore!  
“You don't understand. It's happening!” Claire shouted heavy breathing, couldn’t he understand?!  
“ Give it to me!”  
“No!” Mick replied taken by surprise from this new situation.  
“ Then you do it, please! It's happening! And you don't understand how this feels!” she begs as the panic was creeping up inside of here.  
The fear of becoming a monster. She could not let this happen. She could not let herself become a risk. Alex…Jody!  
She doesn’t want to hurt anyone and no one should carry the burden to kill her.  
But Mick Davies, Mick Davies killed Hayden, he was a stranger, _he_ could kill her too. And as he lifts the weapon a spark of hope went through her body.

  
Yeah, maybe the cure could save her, but it was happening _now_ and _now_ Dean and Sam weren’t here. They could not stop Mick, and Mick could make it quick before…something might happen.  
So at least the foreign exchange student wasn’t so lame. After all he killed Hayden that evening.  
….but of course he doesn’t want to give her the relief of killing her.

  
“I know a man who would shoot you right now, without a moment's thought. And every instinct I have says he's right... that I ought to do my duty. But......But my instincts haven't been so grand of late.” the brit says, holding the deadly weapon in his hands, the weapon Claire was willing to take.  
The weapon to end it….before…it…really happens. Deeply he sights.  
“Sit down.”  
The look on her face, her eyes…so full of expectation that he does it, shot, end it. Erase another life in such short time.  
Taking a deep breath he puts the gun in the waistband of his back, throws the jacket over and tries to focus to think.  
What should he do?  
He can’t shot her. Can’t take another life….and….when he would do it, Dean would quick end Micks life. Or maybe slow.

  
Again he takes a deep breath and looked to the young woman. How she curls up into a ball and pulls the blanket around herself shaken up just like him.  
“Now okay, here's what we're gonna do. Firstly, we're gonna restrain you, right? For my protection. Okay? And then... then we're gonna sedate you. Also….for…my protection. With any luck, when you wake up, this will all be over.”  
“If I wake up..” the blonde replied, doubting…that this will happen.  
“I gotta call Jody…She's gonna be so mad at me.” the otherwise so tough woman says quieter.  
A farewell, it would be good bye, but…she would see her parents again. Hard swallowing she rubs her red eyes, feeling that tears where about to drop.  
She doesn’t want to cry it was her own damn fault. If she had been more careful…. She thought she could hunt alone but…”I…” she started and felt the growing lump in her throat, pulls the blanket closer around herself like a shield, like a cocoon to cover herself up.  
She was scared, scared what she could do, scared what was happening to her. She never would have the strength to live like Garth. To control herself.  
Involuntarily she sobs and clings to her own legs as the panic, fear and guilt swap over her.  
And again she sobs and felt finally the hot tears on her cheeks and the tremble of her body.

  
And Mick…again….tries to collect himself in face of…this piece of misery in front of him.  
Without any doubt Arthur would already have shoot a bullet on Claire’s crying face, without hesitation use the syringe with the silver nitrate and…just moved on. Easy like crushing a mosquito. And then…maybe a cuppa tea!  
But Mick was just standing there. The sedative in one hand…the leather straps in the other….and in front of him, on the couch…a sobbing and crying Claire.  
The big question: what….should he do?  
One part of him was telling him, that…this was a potential threat and his shoulder was reminding him painfully that…it is true but the other part was reminding him eagerly…that this…was just a young…desperate and scared woman.  
He was taking a deep breath before he placed the sedative on the table and approached the young Woman.  
Everything inside of him was rebelling, reminding him of his shoulder, the pain, the bloody danger the _code_ yet he sat himself to the trembling ball because except for the blanket and blonde hair there wasn’t much to see.  
The face was pressed against legs and crossed arms, the blanked pulled around everything and…here…and than you can hear a sob and the rasping sound of gasping for air.

  
Claire doesn’t notice how the couch sinks, how someone sat carefully next to her, not until someone puts an arm around her, she harsh twitched with eyes big and full of panic.  
“Everything all right, it’s only me.” Mick hurried to clarify while he lifted his hand defensive. In one hand he was holding the leather straps…but…there was no gun….or syringe…and Claire wasn’t so sure if she should be happy about that or not.  
The thought to be tied up was not a pleasant one.  
“It is necessary, and it’s better for you and me, okay?” he tried slowly and….unsure about…how he should approach.  
Hard swallowing Claire nod and let the blanket sank from her shoulders, hands stretched in front of Mick.  
He decided against doing with her the same as with Hayden. They…would hope for the cure and…still…  
“…when……something goes wrong, shot me, I…” she sobs again while Mick was gently tying her up. “Maybe it works.” He tried and squeezed her warm hands but he couldn’t fool her…or himself. The chance that the cure will work…was…very….very small.  
Sam and Dean must get the blood and even when they were successful…there was never a success in healing an actual human werewolf….and only 9 to 1 by mice.

  
Sighing the British man of letters pulls himself up from the couch and went over to the cabinet, snatching two glasses, and a bottle of scotch.  
He could really use a drink right now.  
“Ladies drink free.” (*2) Mick said with his charming accent and put the glasses with a little clank on the table and filled them with some water and of course the amber colored scotch.  
After he nearly shot a young Woman…..he takes the right to take a drink in his own hotel room.  
And Claire also looks like she…needed some even if she was looking skeptical with…red…puffy eyes and wet cheeks.  
Just recently Dean took in front of Mick a beer from her. And…beer and Whisky there…is a slight difference. Not…that she never tried some….it…just surprised her. Otherwise…..it was Mick who puts the beer in front of her nose this evening.  
“It seems we both could use a good drink and in England, it’s okay when you’re at least 18.” He smiled and Mick…Mick doesn’t want to be the only one drinking. (*3)  
Also….she hunts werewolves on her own and…surely has some more experience with alcohol that is stronger than beer…of course. The American beer…..is just not the same as in Brittan.  
Claire doesn’t say anything to this, just smiled a tiny bit thankful as she laborious grabbed the glass with her tied up hands.  
“Cheers.” Mick sighed, drops next to Claire on the sofa and takes a big gulp. At least a real whisky. _Scotch._   
Claire followed his doing and takes a mouthful of the drink…..but…immediately regretted it.  
Yeah, beer and whisky, little difference. Not an all-day drink.  
The liquid burns more than she expected, let her swallow faster and caused a little, embarrassing coughing attack.  
How in the world could everyone around her drink this like fucking water?!  
“Shit!” she swears coughing.  
But silver lining.  
Better coughing than shaking and sobbing.  
“Careful, dear.” Mick chuckled before he was gently rubbing her back.  
Overrating themselves, not a good Idea. Sadly….because of that Claire is in this situation.  
But….that you don’t down high proof alcohol like that….you should know. Especially such a good scotch, but…who is Mike to blame?  
“Take a deep breath, relax, calm.” He advised and…she actual follow his instructions. Breathe deeply in, cough again and…slowly relaxes and take a small sip from her drink.  
This way….the burning in her throat was…pleasant…and it distracted her from her fear and panic just like….a certain hand that was gently stroking her back in an pleasant way.  
The scotch warmed her from the inside and for a moment…….she closed her eyes.  
Concentrates on this warm feeling, the burning, that gently hand. How it goes up and down, up and down, slowly always the same until her bumpy breathing adapt to it.  
Breathing in….and out, in and out….slowly and steady.  
Become calm, taking another deep breath, eyes closed.  
She smells the Whisky, taste it more on her tongue. Woody….oak….sweet….sherry…different than the one she tasted before. They…often tasted just… _strong_. Jody would rip of her head if she knew.  
If…she knew that Claire was hunting…she knew she was lying…got bitten…oh…Jody.  
Again she breath in the whisky, takes a little sip. Robust…spicy and…a touch of coffee….vanilla…bitter…manly.  
Blinking she opened her eyes and stares in the glass while her surroundings catches up to her.  
The Straps on her wrists, the hand on her back and the….now extremely present owner of this hand.  
The manly smell, a bit bitter, the light touch of warm coffee, in the _perfume_ , not the whisky, but in _Micks perfume_.  
And…underneath it…his very own smell. Comforting and…..  
Jerkily Claire twitched away, pressed her jaws together and looked with wide open eyes to the dark haired man.

  
Mick himself twitched when Claire flinched and…gave him _that_ look. One minute she was calm and now?  
Big….blue frightened eyes.  
For a moment she was just staring at him with these ocean eyes then…swallowed and lifted again with her trembling hands her glass. Taking a gulp and…don’t care for the burning in her throat.  
“Are you…alright?” the British man of letters asks slowly while Claire was inhaling the scent of the whisky.  
“Ah…yeah.…I am okay. Was….in my thoughts.“ she say defensive.  
Dean think Mick is a bad liar…but…Claire…

  
But what the hell should he tell him? ‘Yeah, okay now I have also a Wolverine-Nose and that is so into you’re smell. Can I have a sniff?’  
Once the thought was there a slight blush was coloring her cheeks and Claire downed her Scotch.  
And oh what a surprise, a double Scotch is not a long drink and is coming to an end after a couple of sips.  
“Can I have another?” the fast question was spoken as she bites her lip and breath in and out…with…her nose.  
“I don’t think that’s a good id-“ “Please.” Claire interrupted begging before Mick can say more. Jaws clenched with tension and…..now the full load of Mick Davies scent in her nose. Great.  
From now on only breathing through the mouth.  
That…fragrance. A bit bitter…a light touch of coffee, vanilla…no…not vanilla…..tonka bean, intoxicating…warm…comforting and…there was more.  
Iron….blood, not…fresh. Maybe her old patch, but…the smell was coming from Mick so…Hayden maybe got to him…before he finished her?  
  
  
“Okay….one more.” Mick interrupts her thoughts as he downed his own Whisky in just one move.  
So….there is at least one who really can drink whisky like water. But…he is after all a Brit…and….the most hunters here have seen a bar more than a motel.  
“Maybe Dean will kill me because of that.” He sighed and put the full glass in front of Claire.  
At least…she….looked more calm even if…he doesn’t know why she jerked away. Just minutes ago.  
But…the alcohol was helping her….and him. It wasn’t like he wanted to kill Hayden but… _the Code_ demand it. There is no grey between the black and white.  
If..…the cure works Claire is no werewolf. When it doesn’t…she will die in agony. But….what is...when it’s neither?  
What is….when the cure fails and…she survives or…Dean and Sam don’t get the blood?  
It was only tested on _one_ human object. The variation of possible results and side effects is massive.  
What the code demands from him in the case of failure…was crystal.  
Taking a sip Mick sat down to her left, again she has her both hands around her glass, taking a sip herself and…inhaling the scent of oak and sweet sherry.  
“Dean should stop acting like it is his problem. When I want to drink, I drink, and when I want to live as a human or not at all it’s my decision!” it escaped her not so….convinced as she liked it to be. So…she takes another gulp.  
She doesn’t want to die, but….alternative option… Swallowing she puts her glass down, looked at her tied up hands and presses her nails into her palms.  
It could have been so easy. Mick…just…had to shot her and...now? Now she couldn’t even hold a gun herself and….has to…wait. Just…wait.  
Again there was this lump in her throat, this...fear…to be helpless. Jody…Alex.  
Laborious she slides back, pull her legs close again and tries to pull the blanket around her body. Like the cocoon from minutes ago. A place to hide.  
Silently she hissed and cursed in her thoughts about…how…helpless she was…even with a simple thing like this.  
Being tied up because she was about to become a monster and couldn’t even hide under a blanket.  
Swallowing dry she tries to reach the soft fabric twisted herself, fells the lump in her throat, the tears, the desperation crawling back in her.

  
But…a slight breeze, a touch on her shoulder and the fragrance she recognized as ‚Mick‘ blew to her nose as a helping hands pulled the blanket around her.  
Comforting one of the hands stays on her right shoulder squeezed gentle as a pair of light…caring green eyes looked into her red ones.  
And Claire gives in.  
The gentle hand, the warming alcohol, the arm that rested supporting on her back and….the scent.  
Warm and comforting…something…..to hold on to.  
She…gives in and already next second leans against the man that should have shot her.  
With the lump in her throat, suppressing a sob she leans her head on his shoulder. Legs pulled to her chest, fingernails in her palms she swallows hard and hide her face even more on him before she takes a deep breath through her nose.  
And again.  
Now it was not the numbing scent of whisky she was inhaling…but…Micks fragrance.  
Breathing in...Breathing out, in…out…deep breaths while her hands relaxed. No more fingernails that bore into her skin…but in a dark grey shirt.

  
So…that…was nothing he expected after all. More or less…taken by surprise he looked at the young woman in his arm.  
To the…would be werewolf….that…was sobbing into his Jacket and…maltreat his shirt and…what the bloody hell should he do?  
Slightly he squeezed Claire’s shoulder while he was….brooding what he should do. Eyes on Claire while he thought and….ah…to hell with it!  
He gives in.  
Pull his arm around her, puts her near to his warm chest and takes a _big_ swig of whisky.  
Actually…he shoulda sedate her long time ago, for his own bloody protection! Almost mocking lays there the empty syringe, the sedative right next to it. And also the _code_ demanded a long time ago…that she shoulda be very quiet by now.  
Well, isn’t that just peachy.  
„It’s alright, luv.“ He mumbles instead, softly stroking her back. (*4)  
He felt how she was shaking…trembling and sobbing…and…there…every time this…deep breath in and out, like a mantra she was not allowed to stop.

  
And after a few silent moments in which Mick was downing his drink and…comforting Claire with stroking her back…she relaxed. More and more.  
After a couple more minutes the tension leaves her body. Her nails don’t maltreat his shirt anymore and the sobbing finally stops.  
Only the deep breathing of the huntress was still there.  
Carefully Mick bends forward to put his empty glass on the low living room table. Hopeful without disturbing the young woman in his arm. But…a bit…he must loosen his grip, pull away a little….and….well…that is not a thing that…was not met with enthusiasm.

* * *

  
  
„Damn mutt, with their fucking claws and fricking teeth!” cursed Dean as he was walking with Sam along the hotel floor.  
Surprise, grabby tribal tat guy wasn’t their guy!.  
They were at the bar, talking about Claire and Hayden and then she gets bitten. Yeah, that couldn’t be a coincidence but…tribal tat wasn’t it. But his fried behind the bar also was there to hear everything.  
It was worth a shot and bingo!  
„We have the blood that is the thing that madders Dean.“ Sam reply…but… “But what if it doesn’t do a damn thing?! Do you want to tell Jody that another of her kids died?!” was the gruffly answer.  
The wolf was dead, they got the blood but….what if….  
“It should better work.” He ads before opening the door to Micks suite.  
And….obviously Mick fucking Davies wanted a bullet right in his stupid British face!

  
They go to hunt down a werewolf, to save Claire and what is this British asshole doing?!  
“Oh, I’m so gonna kill him!” Dean growls as Sam appears behind Dean and…saw _it_ too.  
Mick Davies, British man of letters, cozy stretched out on the sofa, a bottle of scotch and two glasses _in front_ of him……and……Claire Novak…. _on him_.  
Apparently…really…cuddly with the man…underneath her. Her forehead under his chin, her nose deeply snuggled in the crook of his neck and her hands on his chest, buried under his jacket.  
The thin fabric of the soft blanket lies on top of _both_ and…couldn’t hide the fact that….also the rest of Claire’s body was…cozy with the man. Like a satisfied cat that takes all comfort it gets!  
Closely her legs were pushed onto his, lays in fact more on him than the couch and….doze peacefully. Embraced by Mick Davies strong arms.  
Only Mick was wide awake…and….given…the fact that Dean has a murderous look on his face and Sam’s jaws were clenching he…wouldn’t think one minute about it.  
Escaping, that is a thing to think about.  
“Wait, I can exp-“ “Don’t give me the ‘It’s not what it looks like crap!’ Firstly you kill a 16 year old kid and then, when we leave you here to have an eye on Claire you have nothing better to do then to fill her up and make a move on her?!“  
“Plea-“ “Shut up or I swear to god I kill you right here and now!” Dean warns before his eyes flow to Claire’s wrists and…the other things on the table. Was he fucking serious?!  
“You sedate her _and_ tie her up?!” Sam gasps disbelieving. They said there were done with Mick after the Hayden thing, but… _that!_  
“I beat the living daylights out of you perverted asshole!“ Dean burst as he was ready to storm to this Brit!  
But a loud growl let him froze in his steps.  
  
  


* * *

  
_  
before…_

  
A piercing growl makes sure that Mick, while he was trying to put the glass carefully on the table, stops in his movements.  
Like frozen to ice he sat there, swallowing dry and hard, and his other hand still on Claire’s shoulder.  
No sudden movements. Keep calm.  
He felt the piercing gaze and forced himself to be calm….sending a quick prayer away and putting the glass softly on the table, bending down really slowly, just a bit before he was gasping in surprise.  
Harsh he clenched his jaws as he forced himself to not make a sound of pain because Claire…was no longer clinging onto his shirt but rather on _him_.  
Unmerciful her claws bore though the expensive fabric of his jacket and shirt…and into the skin of his stomach, dyeing the dark shirt even darker, redder.  
Deep and uneven he takes a breath through his nose, tense his muscles in the anticipation of claws that would gut him every next second.  
Two seconds…..five seconds….ten.  
Hesitant he turned his head, slowly…..carefully, not hectic, slow until he met a pair of yellow glowing eyes.  
An uncompromising expression was in the eyes, observing every move while a low growling rumbles in the throat of the young woman…the…young werewolf.  
What no?! Mick’s thoughts were racing.  
The sedative was on the table, the syringe, still empty. A move to the table and she would definitely gut him.  
Silvernitrate? Same problem and even further away.  
His gun? Still…the gun was in the back of his waistband, he just….have to pull away from Claire, shove the hand to his back and….than shot Claire. Silverbullets…loaded with foresight.  
  


  
Carefully he breathes out, he never was…this close to a werewolf, but…he knows that every movement…could be his last.  
In fact…he should already be lying on the floor. A bloody mess, shredded in to pieces. No complaining here.  
Slowly he tries so sit more upright, to…get slowly away from Claire but hissed in pain as the claws dug deeper into his sensitive flesh.  
“Okay…okay…” not a good idea.  
So….the other way. He could _lean_ _back_ , shove his hand under himself and….get the weapon like this.  
In the most…possible…slowly way he lean back, let the hand rest on the blondes shoulder while claws were maltreat his skin.  
Calm…breathing in…and out while this yellow piercing eyes never left him, not for a second.  
Bit by bit he sank until he fells the soft cushions of the couch, lifted his left hand as sign of cooperation and…there…the pressure of his gun on his lower back.  
“It’s okay, everything is alright, luv.” He murmurs with his warm and rich accent…silently praying.  
Again there was the growl in Claire’s throat animalistic and threatening. Her lips pulled back to show razor sharp teeth.  
The more Mick leans back the more Claire’s weight was pressing onto her claws, on his belly, the soft flesh, filling her nostrils with the scent of iron.  
Fresh blood, the smell of fresh blood drives though her…blood…and…so much more.  
Heavy breathing the dark-haired looked up to the young woman, remaining in his new position…and…just looked at her.  
A wolf ready to jump, every second it could be the moment, every second he could be…. _dead._  
And then her body jerks, Micks hand twitched to his gun, grab it and….froze again.

  
Without…knowing…he has closed his eyes, waiting for the final hit und…now…..now he was feeling a hot breath.  
A hot breath rolled over his throat, claws were still bore into his skin but…he feels also lips on his skin. Hair was tickling at his chin, a head leans close on his neck, ready for a deadly bite but….instead a nose…cuddles his way in the crook of his neck.  
He felt how the werewolf takes a deep breath. Breathing in…and out…in…and out…again….the mantra and…a…pleased rumble out of the werewolves throat.  
Again…Mick waits…but…nothing was happening. _Why_ was nothing happening?!  
He lies on the couch… _with a werewolf_ …a werewolf…..that was _cuddling_ him, stretching his legs and…takes a deep breath of _him_.  
Hesitant…he pulls his hand back to his front…and caressed with his left her shoulder and….was _rewarded_ with a deep rumble of her throat?  
Even her claws come loose from his skin and…..were just holding onto his shirt above the sensitive skin.  
It couldn’t, it couldn‘t be _that_!  
_That?!_  
Pulling himself together he sank deeper with Claire, stretched himself carefully out on the couch, pull his legs onto it and lay his arm around her waist while….a nose was sniffling at his neck and…brief there was a hot tongue on his skin.  
Once…twice…thrice while Micks thoughts were racing again or…still.  
It….it just….didn’t suit the wolf…that he…had lean forward to…put the glass in the table?!  
Yes, dogs…were descend from wolfs…and…so…werewolf’s are…maybe just…? But…THAT?!  
Werewolves kill, shred humans into pieces and….don’t cuddle like a dog and lick with joy her owner’s hand!  
But….apparently nobody told Claire!  
So…the werewolf snuggles pleased onto the man under her, inhaling his scent which was only for her and….again there was this….overly pleased rumble in her throat!  
And again and again….when Mick’s hand gently strokes the young woman’s back…or he pulls he blanket softly on to her…or…she could just cuddle…there was the pleased rumble……more like…she wants to purr.  
Mick Davies, British man of letters….has no bloody clue how to explain THIS. Nothing he knows about Lycanthropies prepared him for _this_. He was going _nuts._  
  
  


* * *

  
_  
Now…  
_

_  
At least_ one _grabber_ will learn his lesson! (*5) Furies he wanted to go for Mick but a growl let him froze instead.  
A growl….that came from Mick’s direction.  
Claire…who….was not at all cozy anymore looks like…she would rip Deans throat out if he dares to make one more step in Mick’s direction.  
Dangerous her growl echoes, sharp teeth were shown and a murderous look was standing there in those piercing yellow eyes of the werewolf!  
In the same moment Mick flinched, he also gets a piece of Claire’s opinion to this whole situation as the claws were again at the sensitive skin of his chest.  
Not deep…none of them were it was…just a gesture, warning and…to keep him in place….of course. But…it was painful after all.  
He was lucky that trough the leather straps only one hand was clawing on him.  
Hard her muscles tensed under Micks arms, like a predator, waiting for its prey, ready to strike.  
Or…like a predator that……was ready to defense his territory.  
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. What the hell?! Claire?!“ it escaped from the older winchester that was backing away.  
That…there…eyes….werewolf!  
“Is that…how…when?!” Sam asked confused while Claire’s eyes were also at him and again a loud growl that let Sam keep his mouth shut.  
“A…while ago.” gasped Mick painfully.  
What an irony. Dean and Sam want to kill him and a werewolf was protecting him. He could nearly laugh but only nearly…weren’t there those sharp claws and the mentioned werewolf.  
So….how…do you calm a bloody werewolf?!  
Or…better how to calm a werewolf-Claire? Until now she was….irritating peaceful.  
Mick felt the pain of the scratches on his stomach, but…after he laid down….and…comforted her there was no more sound of warning.  
Only….now…where she…he…them…were disturbed and…someone…threatened her….’bed’….and territory she again shows her threatening gestures…like…a wolf.

  
Of course….a werewolf is not a dog, but…..maybe you could calm her the same way?  
A….fascinatingly…stupid idea for someone who knows the Lycanthropies but…..nobody in this room really wants to _hurt_ Claire.  
It only was her instinct to act like this, her senses were controlling her.  
He should focus on _them!  
_So……he has to take the bitter medicine. _  
_ Hesitant Mick moves under Claire and strokes over her tensed back, again knowing that…every second…the teeth cold be in his throat.  
At the end it was a bloody Schnapsidee (*6)  
„Okay….okay Claire….be calm, nobody wants to hurt you….or me. Everything is fine, luv.“ And…did he tries to calm her…or… _himself?_  
“Everything is fine.” He mumbles with his pleasing accent into her ear, strokes her back and again a deep growl. Warning…but…not meant for him.  
„Dean…maybe…you shouldn’t kill Mick now.“ Sam whispered and…fair enough Dean hast to say…Sam is right.  
And the magic word is _‘now’_ , later…ooooh!  
Now…Claire would jump at him and…tried to rip his head of…Dean doesn’t want to hurt her.  
“Okay…okay we…don’t do a thing, we just…wanted to check on our old pale Mick.” Dean makes up with a typical grin like…that is not a load of crap!  
“Ah…yeah we…just wanted to check on Mick…and…you! Because we were worried about you two and…and we were supposed to bring something for Mick.” Sam smiled a little, hands slightly in the air as a sign that he meant no harm to them.  
“Jaaa…..good friends of Mick, Besties!” Dean grinned and also lifted slightly his hands while he and Sam moves sideway in the room, closing the door.  
Mick hoped that…this would be enough.  
“All good, dear. See?“ he murmurs again in a low tone while his heart was pounding loud in his chest.  
Yeah….okay….admitted he was also calming himself with his words!  
His shoulder hurts the new scratches on his stomach and the ones at his chest…but...at least the claws again come loose and no longer in his flesh.  
Still…the eyes were on Sam and Dean.  
And how…were they supposed to give here the injection?  
When he understands right the…’something’ was the blood of the other wolf, and Sam knows the lecture. The syringe with the special plasma was on the table only the blood was missing and Sam knows how much blood he must add to the antibody-plasma. And…then he must inject it.  
A quick glance to Sam…and to the syringe on the table and the hunter understands.  
It was the same as they fought the alpha-vampire. The nonverbal communication.  
He…just has to calm Claire and…distract her. After all he was not on her ‚to kill‘-list than rather on the…what…ever list.  
“Shhhhh….luv…” he whisperd darker as he pulled here more to his chest, his arms tight around her so she…focused on him. A bit like a…dog owner…who tries to get the attention back…only...in other ways.  
“It’s okay.” He said with his warm and charming accent and rubs her tense shoulders, stroke them gently…her back…her sides…way down to her waist were he draws little circles with his thumbs.   
A very pleased growl escaped the wolf and some of the tension slipped, just in the second Mick touched her, away from her.  
“Everything is gonna be alright, sweetheart.” He mumbles low, drawing the circles on her waist before he lifted one hand and Claire’s eyes followed with a soft growl.  
Slightly he swallowed, moved his hand more into her sight before he gently pulls a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers gently touching her skin and his wrist near her nose.  
The spot…where he always put some perfume on. The spot where perfume and...his own scent mix.  
Languorous she rumbles, closed her eyes, inhaled the fragrance and cuddles herself obedient against the male under her, followed by a more pleased growl in her chest. ‘Good girl’ Mick praised in thought…a…little ironic.  
She let herself be soothed, breathed deeply the scent of the other one and…draw again with her nose a line over the skin of the older ones throat. While his fingers moved so pleasing on her waist that she pushed it further to his and a satisfied rumble was to hear before again….a warm tongue was licking on his warm and salty skin.  
Maybe…a little bit…like a dog?

  
And…the longer Mick was…..doing his…“ _distraction“_ the more….Dean wants to rip the head of this damn Brit!  
And Mick…was sending again a prayer so Dean doesn’t kill him!  
“It’s okay, luv.” the accent again…echoed so warm, charming…and a second hand joined the other one on Claire’s waist and strokes her gently.  
Stealing a satisfied rumble of Claire and caused her to move her waist more to Micks, her warm chest tight onto his solid.

  
„This little bastard..“ Dean growls quietly and….wanted to pull his gun.  
One shot. Right between the eyes of this…greasy Brit and he was done. Claire…they could handle and give the cure.  
Oh yeaaaaah…sweet dreams!

  
Sam clenched….again his jaws and try to…wait for his opportunity to get his hands on the syringe with the antibody-plasma.  
He…doesn’t want to….look at…other things that…were happening.  
The fact _were_ Micks hand were, how…much Claire was squeezing herself against him and the sound of _this_ growl. Not…a growl he heard ever…from a werewolf.  
And as Claire’s tongue wandered over Micks skin….it was enough.  
Taking a good breath Sam sneaks to the table to take the syringe without… _interrupting_ …  
Keeping his breath low he pulls out the bottle with the blood. He knows the procedure, how much plasma, how much blood. Careful he filled the syringe with the blood let the fluids mix and throw a look to Mick.

  
Quick Mick saw the look on the younger brothers face, the syringe in his hand and…now…it would be critical.  
Claire was….now….cozy and…distracted but…when she gets the injection?  
Would she squirm in agony and pain, lash out…or just…rip out his throat with her teeth?  
Yet…he feels the warm tongue licking on his throat, above his Adam’s apple, the slight beard stubbles…but…in a moment…it could be very different. Nevertheless…he gave his silent approval before the bigger Winchester jerks forward and gave Claire the injection in the neck.

  
Harshly the young woman twitched on Mick, clawed trough his fabric and skin, screamed in agony and tried to get with her tied up hand to the punctured spot.  
“Now, get her away!” Dean demands and goes for the couch were Claire’s was twitching, growling, and fighting the pain and also Mick who again got a taste of werewolf claws!  
In the second Sam wants to take Claire by her shoulders the young woman lashed out! She tries to get him with her claws, growls loud in agony and sank back onto Mick as she couldn’t hold herself with her tied up Hands.  
“Come on Claire!” Dean growled, wanted to grab Claire but…despite her pain she was straightening herself, kicked, growled and desperately tires to….get the hunters away from her and the gasping male.  
“You gotta be kidding me!” Dean cursed!  
„Dean!“ Sam throws in and pulls his brother away while…he watched how Claire twitched in pain and….tries to hide on Mick.  
This…mix…of sobbing, whimper and…throaty growls….like an animal in agony…desperate to find a safe spot.  
“Oh, luv…” Mick gasped, not….knowing what he coudda said given those…circumstances and….in face of the squirming woman.  
The woman that was squirming on him…in _agony_.  
Again she twitched, kicked, howls, twitched, cramped…whined.  
„How long….how long will this going on?!“ Sam asked finally his eyes focused on Claire.  
“…there….was just one object, nobody can say how lo-“ “Mick!” “…maybe half an hour…maybe less…maybe more.” The Brit answered and…pulled his arms tight around that tortured creature on his chest….forgetting his own pain.

  
Minute…after minutes passed half an hour crawls slowly away. And always the same sound.  
Growling, whining, sobbing…again…and again the woman twitched in unspeakable agony und hid in those strong arms of the man underneath her. Twitching, heavy breathing as…she doesn’t get enough air.  
Sam sat on the couch in front of them, Dean was standing behind him and his arms crossed over his chest and….was watching Claire.  
The in agony twitching Claire…Claire...how she squeeze herself on Mick, seeking for protection.  
Hard swallowing he looked away. What…should he tell Jody if….if Claire….  
„I need some fresh air.“ He says short and leaves the room.  
Sam looked after him before his eyes returned to Claire, her twitching body which……suddenly went silent.

  
„Claire?“ Mick asked as the body on him goes so….silent. A second ago she was twitching in his arms, in agony, and…now…she felt so….silent and…dead.  
“Dean…” Sam sighed before the door opens and the hunter comes back in, like….he just waited to….come back in…when it was over….for the better or the worse.  
Quick he steps forward before...he saw Sam and…Claire, the silent body…on…this…guy, who was after all in some kind of way the cause of this! Numb he saw to the blonde…young woman. Not again…..not again!  
Overwhelmed he looked away, taking a deep breath while Sam closed his eyes and Mick……was holding that so silent body..  
Micks wounds were burning…but…the numbness inside his chest…let him forget about that.  
He…really hoped that…it would have worked…that it….would have saved her....that…he made the right decision.  
And maybe…..somewhere…someone…had heard him, the fact that he regret, honest and deep for Hayden….for…..back then…for following the code so…blind…because…

  
„You….guys look like crap.“ A weak voice whispered and let three pair of eyes look up.  
“Claire.” Dean faltered, swallowed, opened his mouth while Sam sank relieved into the cushions. Disbelieving but...thankful.  
Soft…the young woman’s whines as she tried to move, stilled and…just give in to this warm feeling underneath her.  
“You really scared us, luv.” A….strangely and…unfamiliar…familiar voice said. And Claire forced herself to move her head, to turn it and….saw inside a pair of light green eyes. Green….with sparks of brown…amber.  
“Mick…” she sighed quietly and let her head sink. Totally exhausted she cuddles her face slowly to the crook of his neck, closed her eyes and…..deeply breathe in this….so familiar…fragrance.  
  
  


* * *

**Author's Note:**

> *1 Claire said after Hayden’s death, that her wounds healed through the ‚Wolverine-healing-factor‘  
> *2 Only a little reference to the episode name!  
> *3 So Claire is 20. And drinking in Europe is in most countries fine when you are 18.  
> In Germany you could officially drink and buy wine and beer on the age of 16.  
> *4 Luv like Love.  
> *5 Reference to Claire’s ‚grabby‘ story.  
> *6 For those who don’t know what a ‚Schnapsidee‘ is, it is a common German word for a reeeealy stupid idea, an idea so stupid it only could be the result of a good portion of alcohol or…Schnaps!
> 
> And…the first time I wrote…something and...especially in English….or…whatever this is. (No beta reader, not a native English speaking person so the grammar…does not exist.)
> 
> I just watched the episode again and…..thought I write something about it and…maaaybe there will be more?  
> Because I don't know if you want more. :D


End file.
